“I am categorically alone in this country. I appreciate every new acquaintance I can make.”
Ito finally smiled. “I am sorry to disappoint you, but you have already met him before.”
18
The following morning, the sky above Tokyo was clear. The two men travelled to a Western-style building located not far from Ito’s home. It was constructed in the Beaux Arts style, its exterior built of stone, with colonnades. The building was grand in scale and expensive in appearance, even compared to the houses Sherlock had seen in Tokyo’s upscale residential areas. At a glance, he might have assumed it belonged to a foreign minister. But Ito said the owner of this residence was Japanese.
Although the building was Western, Ito and Holmes still removed their shoes in the foyer. In this home, there were many more servants than there had been at Ito’s estate. The two were led into a spacious reception hall. The hall, too, was Western in design. Its dusky natural stone walls were decorated with antiquated weaponry from around the world. There was a boomerang used by Aboriginal hunters, as well as an Aztec atlatl. There was also a bola—three round stones connected by cords—a throwing weapon originating in Southeast Asia, but also used by groups such as the Eskimos, and by the Pampas Indians of South America to hunt ostrich. It was the Inca Empire’s weapon of choice for long-range warfare.
Ito pointed to the bola. “There is a similar weapon in Japan. It is called the mijin, a type of chain and flail.”
Many collectors in London held similar tastes. From a European point of view, none of these items were particularly rare. But such a collection was likely quite uncommon in the Far East. Holmes was most intrigued by the descriptive plaques affixed beneath each weapon, rather than by the weapons themselves. “I see these plaques are quite unsparing with this one particular kanji.”
“Ah, furu.” Ito nodded. “It means ‘old.’ The plaques include words such as ‘antiquity,’ ‘ancient,’ ‘archaeology,’ ‘discovered in old geological strata’… With so many ancient items decorating the walls, it is only natural that this character would come up so often.”
“Fascinating. I must admit that I am greatly intrigued by the Eastern alphabets.”
“Intrigued? All of these items from around the world, and it is the plaques that draw your attention.”
“I must confess to being quite familiar with varied weapons of antiquity. I’m afraid this display offers little new to rouse my interest.”
“Then tell me, what is this?” Ito pointed to an object resembling a lanyard. The cord had been coiled, but it looked to be around six feet in total length. In the center of the cord there was an oval patch, knitted from wool.
“That is a huaraca,” Sherlock replied. “A variety of sling used by the cultures of the Andes. A stone is placed into the center patch and then the rope is folded in two, held by the ends, and swung. The stone is propelled using centrifugal force. The huaraca also arrived in Japan during the Yayoi period, but never achieved significant popularity. The few that were discovered have simply been referred to as slings.”
Ito peered at the plaque under the sling in amazement. “Most impressive. You are brilliant as always, Mr. Holmes.”
“Nonsense. Even a pawnbroker knows a great number of things. To be useful, knowledge must serve the purpose of deduction.”
“Deduction? Very well, what can you infer about the owner of these pieces?”
Sherlock looked over the displays, voicing each thought as it occurred to him. “Like you, he is originally from the Choshu Domain. He has a natural fighting spirit, but has found himself stranded and alone in tight predicaments. Again like you, he has enjoyed the frequent company of women, and was often in charge of procuring funds for dalliances—he was artful in convincing the Choshu leaders to part with such dispensations. You have frequently availed yourself of his skills.”
A laugh escaped Ito’s lips. “Amazing! How did you find out so much?”
“You entered this estate without greeting the master of the house, so you have likely been friends since youth. And while I’m sure the man in question has any number of comrades, the range and variety of this collection of weapons, from so many nations and times, leads me to infer they were collected through trial and error—from a desire to overcome peril through his own resourcefulness. The weapons, however, are disappointingly impractical and have since become mere decoration. Moreover, collecting all of them would have demanded significant capital.”
“Indeed.”
“And from the scale of the house he appears to be a man of means. Many of the highest posts in government seem to now be filled by members of the former Choshu Domain. But luxury of this magnitude would be impossible for a government official, unless they were colluding with conglomerates and other businessmen to misappropriate funds. What is likely then is that you recognized his ability for fundraising while together in the Choshu Domain, and this has allowed him now to involve himself with the Ministry of Finance—”
He saw Ito’s expression stiffen. He glanced at something beyond.
Sherlock fell silent and turned to follow his gaze. A man dressed in kimono stood behind them. He was about five years older than Ito, with deep wrinkles creasing his brow. His hair was long, longer than Ito’s, and his beard had been cut short. Also like the other Japanese man’s, this man’s expression was stern, but the countenance around their eyes differed. Where Ito’s eyes were piercing, this man’s were more bovine and obtuse, and it was more difficult to discern what he was thinking. He had an angry expression and began speaking in Japanese.
“Inoue,” said Ito, speaking in English. “Please speak in English, so that your other guest may understand.”
The man whom Ito had referred to as Inoue directed his gaze toward Sherlock. “It’s true, I am the man who was left behind at the British legation. I do not know who you are, but if you have come now to protest you are rather late.”
Ito glanced at Inoue and grimaced. “Things only went sideways that day because you forgot to bring the gunpowder.”
“I hid it so well that I forgot to bring it! You were better prepared, you remembered to bring the saw. It is thanks to you that we succeeded in setting fire to the legation at all.”
“Inoue,” said Ito, casting an uncomfortable glance at Sherlock. “Perhaps you could avoid particulars?”
So. Inoue must be one of the men who had helped Ito burn down the British legation, before Ito first came to London. A vague memory stirred in Sherlock, who addressed himself to the man. “Are you, perhaps, the man who came running into the Hamish restaurant that day? Ito, myself, and my brother, Mycroft, were there, and you came carrying a newspaper. There was an article about a Western attack on the Choshu Domain.”
Inoue furrowed his brow. He seemed to be having trouble recalling the event, which was only natural. It had been 27 years ago.
Ito, however, nodded emphatically. “You are correct. He was known as Monta Shiji at the time, but he is now known as Kaoru Inoue. You recognized me immediately, Mr. Holmes, but you did not recognize my friend so quickly.”
“As might be expected. I met you a second time at Baker Street. I have not seen Mr. Inoue since I was ten years old.” Sherlock approached Inoue and extended his hand. “Mr. Inoue, it is a pleasure. Sherlock Holmes, at your service.”
Inoue shook his hand, but his face remained unsure. “Sherlock Holmes… I believe I have heard that name before.”
“He is a renowned consulting detective,” Ito provided.
“A detective?” Inoue’s face grew steely. “You have brought him here because you wish to investigate me?”